


the night is still young

by goofball46



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, HSAU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-29
Updated: 2016-04-29
Packaged: 2018-06-05 07:10:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6694639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goofball46/pseuds/goofball46
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>lexa woods transferred to ark academy for her senior year. she just wanted to get away from the stares and whispers after what happened with costia, but she had no idea what she was in for when she met clarke griffin. ft. octaven being more physical than can really be considered platonic and clarke and lexa being way too oblivious.</p><p>clexa and octaven high school au</p>
            </blockquote>





	the night is still young

Lexa Woods, at 17 and a half, has her life figured out. She’ll graduate top of her class in June with the 300 other kids in her grade and go to Brown on a series of piano and academic scholarships, where she’ll major in political science, make her family proud, and (God willing) get over Costia. She’s confident she’ll achieve all of this (barring the last item, of course) with no difficulties. The easiest thing about having no friends is that it’s easier to disappear off to college with no loose ends, no connections.

Lexa Woods, at 17 and a half, hasn’t met Clarke Griffin yet.

Clarke Griffin has never been one for plans. Or easy, for that matter. And when she shows up late to class on the first day of senior year, Lexa takes one look at her and somewhere inside knows that despite all of her grandiose plans, she is completely and utterly screwed.

“Mr. Miller, I know what you’re going to say,” she starts. Her voice is deeper than Lexa expected, and Lexa’s spine tingles at the tone. Clarke uses her free hand to shove back her blonde waves, her other arm flexing with the weight of her bag. “I _promise_ I wasn’t late on purpose; I was just-”

The teacher holds up one hand to silence her, shaking his head. “It’s only the first day of class, so I’ll let it go. Don’t let it become a habit though. Have a seat, Ms. Griffin.”

Clarke nods and rushes to dump her stuff on the only available desk - right next to Lexa. Despite herself, Lexa’s eyes are drawn to the short hem of Clarke’s skirt, which reveals more muscled, tanned leg than the school dress code could possibly allow. It’s short and dark and coupled with a white tank top that Lexa can’t keep her eyes off of.

Two dark-haired girls in the back of the classroom giggle at Clarke’s entrance, and when Mr. Miller turns to scrawl his full name, _DAVID MILLER_ , on the board, Clarke turns to flip them off with a sparkly, white-toothed grin. She retracts the gesture by the time Mr. Miller’s turned back around in favor of organizing her things. Rather than a traditional backpack, she has an enormous messenger bag. When she pulls it open to fish out a notebook, Lexa sees a plastic bag full of charcoal sticks and a sketchbook. Lexa moves her gaze from the bag when she sees Clarke start to jot down notes, her handwriting an illegible scribble, finally noticing that Mr. Miller is already talking.

When she realizes it’s just standard first day of school things, she allows her attention to drift back to Clarke. What she’d believed to be notes in fact are nothing academic at all, something Lexa discovers when Clarke tears out the paper and passes it back until it reaches the brunettes in the back corner. They open it and read it together, their eyes flicking over it in sync. When they’re done, the girl with her hair in a ponytail looks up and winks at Clarke, who grins and turns to face the front again.

Lexa’s new, having transferred to Ark Academy for her senior year because of the Costia thing, but even she can tell that Clarke is popular. If the confident way she holds herself (back straight, sunshine-blonde waves tossed back, constant smile, daringly short skirt) isn’t enough, the looks she keeps receiving certainly are enough of a clue. Every girl in the room has looked back at her with some form of adoration at least once, and most of the guys have tossed appreciative looks towards her figure. This girl’s wink is simply another glance to add to the list. The girl with the ponytail turns back to her desk and writes a response, which lands on Clarke’s desk in a manner so obvious that Lexa swears Mr. Miller must be consciously ignoring it. Clarke writes out another messy answer and tosses the paper backwards. So entranced is Lexa by the girl that she’s startled to the point of jumping when Mr. Miller calls her name.

“Alexandria Woods is a new student here,” he says. “Alexandria, to the front of the classroom if you please?”

“Lexa,” she corrects firmly. Clarke looks up from her note-passing at that, impossibly bright blue eyes taking in Lexa from the top of her curly hair, carefully tamed into a complex system of braids, to her toes, encased in brown formal shoes. Lexa can feel the way Clarke’s eyes survey her, and her stomach tickles pleasantly. “My name is Lexa.”

“Lexa, then,” Mr. Miller responds, flattening his lips into an all-too-familiar line of disapproval. “Lexa, would you care to introduce yourself?”

“Um, hi,” she says. “I’m Lexa. From Polis High.” That sparks murmurs, and Lexa’s cheeks flush red. No doubt they know about the Costia thing. It’s only a matter of time before some nosy idiot with access to Google looks her up and finds everything out. And to think, this was precisely what she transferred to avoid.

Clarke, interestingly enough, is silent, refraining from turning to whisper to her friends, unlike nearly everyone else in the class. Her eyes remain locked on Lexa’s, and Lexa fiddles with the button on the sleeve of her crisply ironed blue button down in response to her intense stare, staying at the front for a beat longer before sitting back down again, training her eyes on her notebook and ignoring the whispers about “that dead girl.”

“Hey.” A husky voice draws Lexa’s attention, and she looks up to see Clarke with her hand sticking out. “Clarke Griffin.” Lexa awkwardly accepts the handshake. “Welcome to Ark Academy, Ms. Woods.”

* * *

“Jesus _fuck_ do I hate physics,” Octavia declares loudly, shifting her textbooks to one arm in order to grab Raven’s hand as they exit the classroom. “Thank _God_ school’s over.” Raven bats her hand away, her face mock-offended as she piles her own textbook onto Octavia’s.

“You watch your mouth, Octavia Blake.” Octavia rolls her eyes and grabs for Raven’s hand again, more successfully this time. She twines their fingers together and strokes her thumb over the smooth back of Raven’s hand.

“C’mon, Rae.” She rests her head on her best friend’s shoulder. “Even _you_ have to admit that Mr. Green was probably hired after he resigned from his previous job as hall monitor in hell.”

“Oh, I hate Mr. Green,” Raven agrees. “But physics itself is _fascinating_. Just because our teacher has no fucking clue what he’s talking about does not mean physics sucks.”

“Whatever,” Octavia responds, and when she scrunches up her face into an expression of displeasure, Raven can feel the movement against her shoulder. “It’s boring. And confusing as hell. Which is why you’re going to be helping me!” This last part is exclaimed cheerfully, and Octavia pulls away from Raven’s shoulder to beam happily up at her.

“Oh, will I?” Raven asks, smirking.

“Please?” Octavia pouts, her eyes widening. “Rae, I _need_ you.”

“That face isn’t fair,” Raven declares, poking Octavia’s nose. “But I’ll consider it. What’s it in for me?”

“My company?”

“Sweetie, I get that whether I want it or not.” Raven grins cheekily, and Octavia’s pout turns into a mock-offended expression.

“Shut up; you love me.” Octavia presses back against her side, knocking shoulders with her again. “Besides, I’ll let you beat me in Mario Kart.”

“I don’t need you to _let_ me win _anything_ , Blake. But you’re on.”

“Thank you,” Octavia responds, drawing out the word _you_. She grins a toothy grin and presses a chaste kiss to Raven’s cheek. “You’re a _lifesaver._ ” Raven rolls her eyes at Octavia’s dramatic tone.

“Enough PDA, you two.”

“Well, if it isn’t our favorite ray of sunshine, Clarke Griffin,” Raven teases, her face lighting up at the sight of her friend. Clarke grins. The three girls stop their walk as they reach the field and sprawl out on the bleachers, the sun warming their skin. It’s end-of-summer sun, the perfect kind that makes skin look bright and glowy. Octavia drops her and Raven’s books to the side and lays down on one of the rows, her shirt riding up over her smooth, sun-kissed stomach. She reaches a hand up to grab Raven’s, who finds a seat straddling the top row. Clarke sits next to Raven, her knee brushing the dark-haired girl’s.

“You love me,” Clarke shoots back.

“You know we do.” Octavia slips her hand out of Raven’s and sits up to poke Clarke’s shoulder, but Clarke pulls back just in time and Octavia decides not to pursue it. “So who’s the new girl?”

“New girl?” Clarke’s brow furrows in confusion. “Why should _I_ know?”

Octavia rolls her eyes. “You’re really gonna make me get up, aren’t you?” She sits up, pulling her hand away from Raven’s to rake a hand through her hair and fix it, tugging down her shirt, and climbing over the bleachers to hop down in front of Raven. Raven turns to Octavia with a bemused expression. “Okay, Raven’s the new girl.” Octavia thrusts her chest forward and makes eyes at Raven. “ _Hey_ ,” she mocks breathily, her voice dropping into a sexy whisper. “ _Clarke Griffin. Welcome to Ark Academy._ ” Raven collapses into giggles and Octavia does an overdramatic bow. “Thank you, thank you very much.” She moves to stand near Raven again, resting her hand on the other girl’s thigh. “I’m just saying, Clarke. You were, like, super gay.”

“Jesus, O, it’s not like that.” Clarke rolls her eyes. “I have Finn.”

“Finn lost you the second he transferred to Mount Weather Prep,” Octavia declares. “You can’t use that excuse. And guys suck at any kind of distance.”

“I know,” Clarke says. She swings her legs distractedly, eyes tracing the movements of her Converse. “I know it can’t last. And I don’t really… You know I don’t really _like_ him anymore.”

“So break up with him,” Octavia says matter-of-factly.

“I can’t, O. He’s… he’s _Finn_. He’s sweet.”

“Raven’s sweet, too, Clarke,” Octavia counters, looking over at the girl. “Doesn’t mean you’re gonna date _her_.”

“If only she’d have me,” Clarke jokes dramatically, and Raven tosses her a cheesy wink.

“Better keep your joking to a minimum, Griff. Someday I might just take you up on that.”

“You guys,” Octavia says, dropping Raven’s arm, “are disgusting.”

“You’re just jealous,” Raven teases. “Don’t worry, O; there’s enough of me to share.” She makes a kissy face at her best friend, who rolls her eyes.

“As if.”

“Octavia Blake, you wound me,” Raven cries dramatically, one hand coming up to cover her heart.

“Whatever.” Octavia pokes her tongue out at Raven. “You’re both free Saturday, right?”

“Of course,” Clarke responds. “Your usual back-to-school party?”

Octavia nods. “Yep! Mom’s going to Tokyo for work, so the house is ours. Bell will be there as usual to supervise and shit.” She makes exaggerated air quotes around the word “supervise,” and Raven snorts at her expression. “And it’ll be complete with all your middle school faves - truth or dare, paranoia, spin the bottle?”

“You just want to make out with all the hot new kids,” Clarke accuses, and Octavia gives a proud grin.

“So what if I do?” She fixes Clarke with a stern glare. “Speaking of new kids, Clarke Griffin, if you even _think_ about inviting Finn Collins to my party instead of Trademarked Hottie New Girl, you are uninvited. And I honestly don’t think I could be friends with you after that.”

“And why can’t _you_ just invite her yourself?”

“C’mon, Clarke, have you seen her? Do you think that girl even knows what a party is? She needs to unwind, but she looks like someone who would say no.”

“And?”

“And… I don’t think she’d say no to _you._ ”

“What do you mean by that?”

“C’mon, Griff,” Raven says, smirking. “Don’t tell me you didn’t see the way she was looking at you in English with Mr. Miller today. She’s _super_ gay for you.” Octavia nods her agreement, tracing one finger in a spiral on Raven’s thigh.

“You’re both ridiculous,” Clarke responds.

“Prove it, then,” Octavia challenges. “Invite her to my party. She won’t say no.”

“Fine,” Clarke acquiesces. “But only to prove you guys wrong. There’s no way she’ll say yes.” There’s honking from the parking lot, and Octavia shoots a glare in the general direction the noise came from.

“That’s Bellamy with the car. Rae, let’s go.”

“See ya, Griff,” Raven says, hopping off the bleachers. She grabs her and Octavia’s books and links arms with the paler girl at the elbow. “And O, don’t worry. Your bike should be done within the next couple weeks.” Octavia grins.

“I swear you’re a lifesaver, Rae.”

“Yeah, well, if you drove the speed limit, you wouldn’t need me to constantly fix her. You need to take care of my baby better.”

“It’s a good thing you’re always there to pick up the pieces for me, then, huh?”

“Damn straight,” Raven responds, her ponytail swishing over her shoulders as she shoots a confident smirk at Octavia.

Clarke follows the pair out to the parking lot and gets in her own car, a shiny new Mercedes Benz that Abby gifted her in an attempt to prevent backlash from her decision to date Kane. Clarke didn’t particularly care who her mother chose to date, and once she’d gotten over her initial irritation that Abby was moving on from Jake, she realized that she’d really benefited. She slips into the front seat and turns her keys in the ignition, the engine humming to life under her. Raven had lost her mind last year when she’d seen Clarke roll up to school after getting her license with this car. Clarke smiles at the memory as she pulls out of the parking lot and turns on the radio. She bops along with some bubblegum pop top 40 radio station            the whole way.

Abby’s cooking dinner when she gets home, and Clarke kicks off her shoes at the door before heading up to her room to work on homework. She throws her bag down on the bed and grabs her laptop, swiftly pulling up Facebook. Lexa evidently hasn’t added any Ark Academy friends, while a few new kids pop up as Suggested Friends, Lexa isn’t one of them. She enters the name into the Facebook search bar, and after scrolling a bit (and accidentally pulling up the page for a bleach blonde Lexa Woods from Australia), she finds the right one. Lexa’s page is simple and very in character. Her profile picture is a professionally taken senior picture, where she’s wearing a simple white T-shirt, leaning on a brick wall. Her hair is carefully braided and pulled off to one side, and her smile is soft and slight and doesn’t reach her eyes. Her header is a picture of her with her arm wrapped around another girl. The other girl is beautiful, with sparkling dark eyes and a wide smile. Her hair is free, in dark, wild curls, and she’s slightly blurry, as though mid-laugh. It’s Lexa, however, that really draws Clarke’s eye. She’s leaning towards the darker girl, and her grin is wide and genuinely happy. Her eyes are bright green, and Clarke almost doesn’t recognize her for the happiness that beams from her face.

Scrolling down, there’s not much information to see about her. She has a quote listed in her About Me page (“I am still learning” – Michelangelo, age 87), and her liked movies are mostly documentaries. _The Princess Diaries_ series is all liked, and Clarke laughs at the thought of serious Lexa watching Anne Hathaway stumble her way through princesshood. She continues into Lexa’s photo albums, which mostly feature a lot of pictures of the girl from Lexa’s header, constantly grinning. There are a lot of pictures of the two of them, and Clarke can’t help but smile at how happy Lexa looks in every one of them. She presses “Add Friend” just as Abby calls her down to dinner, and quickly shuts her computer to run downstairs to dinner.

* * *

 

Lexa texts Aden impatiently from the parking lot of the middle school, her mind already jumping to worst-case scenarios that could happen if they were late home. Titus wasn’t one to tolerate lateness, and if she wanted to meet up with her father this week, she would need to stay on his good side.

Fortunately, when she looks up from checking the time, she sees Aden dashing towards the car, his blonde hair a rumpled mess, his oversized backpack thumping against his back as he ran. He dumped it in the front seat as he came in, and Lexa smiles softly at him as she starts the car up.

“Hey, little duckling. Thought we were gonna be late.”

“I thought so too,” he responds, slightly out-of-breath.

“Seatbelt,” she reminds, a slight edge to her voice, and he complies, tugging the strap across his chest. “What were you up to?”

“We have a family tree project,” he says, and Lexa nods her understanding. “I had to ask Ms. Green what to do with Ti- Dad and... Gustus.” He’s careful about how he refers to them, and Lexa’s jaw clenches slightly at the reminder that he’s been conditioned out of calling his own father Dad.

“What did she say was the answer?”

He shrugs. “It’s up to me, I guess. She told me to explain it in the report, so I’m gonna need your help with that.”

“Of course.” Not like Titus would be much help with that. He’d probably try to pass himself off as Aden’s real dad. Asshole. “Maybe we can Facetime Anya tonight and she can help too. She knows Dad’s side of the family better than I do.”

“Thanks, Lex,” Aden says, shoving back his floppy bangs. “How was your day?”

“It was pretty good.”

“Meet anyone new?”

Unbidden, an image of the blonde girl in all her classes springs to Lexa’s mind. “Um… yeah, actually.”

Aden’s moved on already, though, so she doesn’t have to explain why the thought of Clarke makes her stomach twinge. “There was this kid in my class and he’s from Germany. Have you ever been to Germany, Lex?”

Lexa nods. “Before Mom died, Dad took Anya and I on lots of trips.”

“That’s so cool.” Aden looks up at her in awe. “I wanna go to Germany. Jakob’s teaching me how to speak Germany, so I’ll be ready.”

“Maybe I’ll ask Titus if we can go someday,” Lexa says, her smile faltering at the thought of asking Titus for _anything_.

“Titus’ll never say yes,” he mutters dejectedly, slumping back in his seat. “I just wanna go with you and Anya. And Dad. Gustus. You know.”

“Well, Anya and Dad and I don’t have the money for that, kid,” Lexa explains. “Titus does.” They lapse into silence, and when they reach a red light, Lexa sneaks a glance at him. He looks way sadder than any twelve-year-old boy rightfully should. “What would you say to some ice cream, Aden?” Aden’s eyes light up and he looks over at her, a hesitant smile creeping across his face.

“Really?”

“Really. Maybe after you get your homework done. I’ll take you out for some Rocky Road. Just you and me.”

“That would be awesome, Lex!” He’s back to his talkative young self again, practically bouncing in his seat. “Jakob’s parents don’t let him have sweets during the week. And he doesn’t have any sisters.”

“He’s missing out then,” Lexa teases. “Sisters are pretty good, huh?”

“Yeah,” Aden says excitedly. “Anya’s the best.” Lexa shoots him a mock-offended look, and he grins and drapes himself across the armrest nearest to her. “And you’re okay, too.”

Lexa gives a slight smile as she pulls into the garage.

“I miss you like this,” Aden says as she parks, and she feigns confusion.

“What do you mean?”

He shrugs, unbuckling his seatbelt. “You’re never happy anymore. I miss how you used to joke with me. You and…”

“And Costia,” Lexa finishes when he trails off, the name tasting like ash in her mouth. Her stomach turns and he nods.

“I miss her,” he says quietly, and Lexa can’t look at him. She can’t even respond, not through the tightness in her throat.

She finally settles on saying simply “Go do your homework,” and he grabs his backpack and goes upstairs to his room to start in on his work, and Lexa follows his path at a slower pace.

Titus is in the living room waiting for her, and she grits her teeth. Talking with him after mentioning Costia never ends well. “Alexandria,” he says, standing as she enters the room. The words to correct him fly to her tongue but she resists, pressing her tongue up against the back of her teeth instead. “It was your first day today.” She nods in lieu of a spoken response. “Have you made any friends?” Her eyes flick to the ground, remembering pretty blonde Clarke who’d introduced herself. “That’s a yes?”

Lexa swallows. “Yes.”

“Alexandria,” he says, his tone hardening into a reprimanding one. “I thought I’d taught you better than that. You need to focus on your studies.”

“There’s nothing _wrong_ with having friends, Titus,” she says, an edge creeping into her voice.

“Don’t use that tone with me,” he snaps, and Lexa stiffens. “And you know how the quality of your work decreases when you’re… distracted.”

“ _Distracted_?” she scoffs, her tone rising. “You think I was _distracted_ last year-”

“What else would you call it? Your grades slipped to almost Cs-”

“Costia _died_!”

“And whose fault was that?”

Lexa stares at him, her composure crumbling as she fends off the tears that threaten to fall. He steps towards her.

“I know you had feelings for the girl. And what happened to her was tragic, but you have to think about your future. What are colleges going to think when they see your grades?” He sighs. “Go do your homework.”

Lexa turns and heads to her room as quickly as she can without feeling like she’s running away.

**Author's Note:**

> hmu at skyleksa.tumblr.com


End file.
